Out of Reach
by icarusforgotten
Summary: He stumbles home drunk, but he remembers.
1. Out of Reach

He stumbles home drunk, but he remembers.

Every detail, like a stitch fraying in what was meant to be a seamless bond, crashing through his mind with unbearable intensity, screeching like a distant siren howling in a raging wind, trailing off as a haunting echo that should have long ago dissipated across the current.

He can still feel the heat from those fingertips, the wet pressure of a wandering tongue, sparking unimaginable sensations of pleasure beneath his prickling skin like he'd never felt before. Like he'd felt once upon a time in what seemed now a distant universe, painfully vague and out of reach.

And the heat ignites within him again, teasing along his quivering muscles, shallowing his breath until he needs to stop for just the barest moment, just long enough to stabilize his lungs, his yearning heart, beating with a the faintest background of regret. Still, it's not strong enough to drown out this piercing craving.

He eventually manages to reach his bed, kicking off one shoe before forgetting to remember the other.

He falls back against the pillow, turning away with shame from the sound of a gentle, content snoring, filling the room with an air of calm. Of trust. Which he had broken.

The bed creaks and an arm drapes itself gently around Peter.

Wade sleeps on.


	2. Fixing the Problem

"We need to talk."

It was said absently, eyes locked out the window at the changing leaves dancing in the wind. A beautiful season. And an ironic reminder.

Wade pushed his breakfast away, having only picked at it aimlessly. Peter could only assume that Wade knew.

He kept his head down. "Last night, I –"

"You don't have to tell me."

So he did know.

"Look, it was a mistake … and I was drunk … and … " he finished off with a pathetic sigh.

Wade snorted. "It was only a matter of time, I think." He crossed his arms, staring intently at Peter. Not with anger, but with pity. The kind of internalized pity a man possesses when he tries to carry the burdens of the world all on his breaking shoulders.

Peter knew that burden.

And now he realized that somehow Wade blamed himself for how sour their relationship has been lately.

"You know it's not your fault, right?" He looked up at Wade, noticing how distant his eyes were.

"Isn't it? You don't want me anymore, I dig that. It's cool. I don't wanna hold you back."

And that right there stung more than his betrayal.

"Wade, don't say that."

He let out a tired sigh, eyes slipping shut as he threw his head back. "I can see you're not happy. You don't have to pretend anymore. You don't want me, and I'm cool with that."

He could feel his throat closing off in just the slightest, eyes prickling with heat. He stood from his chair, the force of the motion violently knocking it back, and stormed up to Wade. He pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, watching Wade's eyes fly open in surprise.

"Has this meant so little to you that you're not even willing to fight for it? To fix whatever shit time we're going through?" he snapped, clutching Wade's shoulder with his other hand and slamming him against the nearest wall.

Wade slapped Peter's hands away, shoving him off. "What's there to fix? We don't talk anymore, we don't even _fuck_ anymore! You go out every night, and I have no fucking clue _where_! You come home stumbling in last night, drunk off your ass, and I wake up to find you covered in hickeys and smelling of sex. And you know what? I've grown past the fucking point of even _caring_! Because we've grown so far apart that it would take more than Hulk smashing sense into us to fix this."

"_I don't want us to end like this!_" he yelled, slamming Wade back against the wall. "I don't want us to end at all. But something's been going wrong for a long time now, and I'm really scared, because I don't know what to do. I don't know how to be around you anymore. I can't talk to you. I'm scared to touch you because you might just push me away!" His vision was blurring, and he cursed at how fitting it was that he couldn't see Wade's face clearly.

"If you think I don't still love you then you really are an idiot," Wade said quietly. "If you think I don't want things to go back to how they were … if you think I don't miss holding you, making love to you, just _being_ with you, then maybe that's where the problem really is."

Peter leaned forward, head bumping against Wade's chest. His shoulders were shaking, and he let out a long, broken sob.

Wade's arms came up to wrap firmly around him. His face pressed down against the top of Peter's head, and he could feel the soft vibrations of Wade humming a quiet tune, lulling him into a gentler calm.

"I'm sorry," he eventually stuttered out. "I don't know what's been happening, and it's scaring me, it's really scaring me. I don't want to lose you, but we've just been so distant to the point that it hurts. And I just needed to feel _something_ again. I'm sorry, last night meant nothing to me. I promise."

And he knew that he was lying because last night had been amazing. It had awakened him. But maybe, Peter reasoned, all it had done was awaken his realization of how much he still needed Wade.

"You've been so out of reach, and I couldn't stand it anymore," he continued. "I miss you."

He felt Wade press a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I miss you too, baby boy."

It had been too long since he'd last heard that endearment from Wade, and he pressed himself closer.

"Let's do this together," he said quietly, fingers moving in lulling patterns across Peter's back.

Peter nodded and relaxed against Wade, breathing him in slowly.


	3. Together Again

It's been a year since the incident.

And it wasn't easy.

They fought, with words and fists, and one time with guns, when Wade got drunk and remembered just what Peter had done. Lucky for the both of them Peter was sober and Wade's aim was off. Whether intentional, or as contribution of the alcohol, Peter still didn't know.

It took a lot of time, and even more effort, more than either of them had anticipated.

But it had been worth it.

Laying in bed, waking up to soft kisses across his shoulder and his chest, Peter knew it had been worth every struggle to fight to keep them together.

He turned over, pulling himself closer to Wade, closer to his warmth, smiling against his chest as he was enveloped by powerful arms. He felt Wade stroking through his hair, heard him mumbling something to those boxes Wade thought lived in his head before laughing, pressing his face into Peter's neck to try and muffle the sound. He felt the vibrations thrum across his skin, the movement of lips as they said Peter's name in the loveliest way, in a whisper so faint that he could barely hear, that only the heat of his breath as it tickled his skin made it known that he had spoken.

Peter pulled back, just a fraction, and looked at him. Looked at what he'd come so close to losing.

Wade frowned. "What's wrong?" He reached out to brush his finger gently across Peter's cheek, stroking his way down his jaw and across his chin before he cupped his face. Peter leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. He shook his head, as much as he could anyway; his emotions always managed to make their way out through Peter's eyes, even if all he was doing was remembering his mistakes. And Wade was always keen to pick up on that.

He turned his face, kissing the palm of Wade's hand. "I just can't believe I almost lost you."

Wade snorted, withdrawing his hand to push Peter flat against the bed, climbing on top of him, gently spreading his weight across Peter, head resting over his heart. Peter brought his hand up, stroking Wade's head, lightly scraping his nails across his skin in that special way he liked.

Wade hummed appreciatively. "Shit happened, just stop thinking about it."

Peter leaned up on his elbows, lifting Wade's face to peer down at him. "Come here," he said quietly.

Wade raised himself, leaning forward to reach Peter's lips. The kiss was slow and lazy. Wade nipped at his lips a few times, and Peter laughed. He lay back down, pulling Wade down with him, kissing him greedily, with a desperation that reached far beneath the lower chambers of his heart.

They made sweet, slow love under the warm morning light seeping in through the blinds. Wade held his hand, and Peter squeezed his fingers as he came, crying out Wade's name with a broken moan, eyes locked with his until he needed to shut them from the sheer joy of love and unbearably pleasurable climax shaking through his being.

When he opened his eyes again, there was Wade, flushed and sweat-dampened, the skin around his shining eyes crinkling from the size of his grin. Peter pulled him down for a gentle kiss before smiling back up at him.

They were together again and nothing would stop that.


End file.
